


PTSD and other reasons to stay awake

by ajoy3



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Healing, Light Angst, OTP Feels, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:55:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25042027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajoy3/pseuds/ajoy3
Summary: Kagome has trouble coping with the war. Brooding dog demons help.
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/InuYasha
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	PTSD and other reasons to stay awake

PTSD and other reasons to stay awake  
Kagome was not a girl who was used to sleeping problems.

In the past, she was the one who slept late, couldn't be bothered to wake with the rising sun, and begged for more time. She could find slumber whether on the cold dirt ground or perched high on a tree against Inuyashas back. But when she laid in her plush bed, pillows surrounding her, linen clean and comfortable, she found herself wide awake, and she hated it. Kagome took to counting the ceiling tiles, listing off the periodic table of elements, naming the cities if Japan by alphabetical order. If she was still, if she had more than a moment, she would think. And when she thought, she spiraled.

It was so much easier to disassociate in the moment; easy, in fact, to shoot arrows at a beast thrice her size, watch the man she loved rake his claws through another’s flesh, the red stains trickling down his hands as he flicked his wrist, ridding himself of the blood. They were enemies, literal demons in fact, and it was killed or be killed, and Inuyasha would not go down without a fight.

It was war.

But once Naraku was gone, and the great evil was defeated, she was left with nothing to do but process. The chunk of years she was removed from society, absent from the lives of those around her was one aspect she struggled with. Doing her best to catch up, trying to mend together bits of information and not feel affronted at the depth of relationships around her was something that left her silently sobbing into her pillow at most nights. Sota had kissed his first girl, grandpas sister- her sweet, old aunt- had passed, and she was probably the only remaining virgin in her age bracket it seemed.

Kagome was well aware she had PTSD. She was a smart girl, and she could recognize the symptoms, but knowing her demon didn’t make it any easier to face. It wasn’t as if she could speak to a therapist- or anyone for that matter. The moment she opened her mouth and began to weave a tale of time travel and power hungry demons would be the precise moment she was committed and medicated. Even her own family, privy to some of her more unsavory adventures, had difficulty relating to her trauma. They didn’t understand the fear that crept up her spine when the wind blew at night, her mind still racing and on high alert, even after years of sleeping in her own bed. They had never known the bone-weary exhaustion, the tireless whispers of the villagers, the panic she felt daily as they raced the clock to destroy another being. And yes, during those years she smiled, during those times she still found it in her to laugh and forgive and even fall in love. But when it was over, and she was left alone, in a world so far apart from the one she fought for, peace did not come so easily for her.

She wondered if her friends faced the same troubles, if they laid awake at night, trying to tally the number of foes fallen between them. And while she would not have changed it, would stand beside them all and slaughter each one again, the weight of their actions, even when justified, took a toll on her. Kagome had to remind herself that the opponents they faced were often too far gone with power lust and rage to be left alone. They were dangerous demons, wild and seeking out trouble.

But then her mind would race to Inuyasha, and the times that he struggled to control his fury, eyes bleeding red, skin marked with bright purple stripes, a clear signal from nature to back off if she had ever seen one. Yet during those times, she could bring him back, lure him away from the edge and return to the man she loved. Could that have been true for all of them? Maybe just some? Did they have families? Lovers waiting for their safe return? Or were they rouge agents, solely under the control of the spider demon?

It was thoughts like those that kept her awake, kept her mind reeling. No one understood, no one could relate even in the slightest, so she did her best to smile, and not let it crack. If she lied very still, her mother would think her asleep. If she laughed when her friends did, they would be none the wiser. If she helped grandpa with his duties she could stay busy, keep her mind and hands occupied, nodding along with his stories and theories when he paused in the conversation for her response. She became rather good at that, picking up on small signals and facial cues, without knowing any of the substance of the conversation. It was empty and hollow, damaged and broken, but she could manage it. She had no other choice. And when the night terrors started, the endless dreams of her friends being torn limbs from limb, Inuyashas body painted red, she would wake up screaming. Some nights, her mother would hold her, cradling her head as she rocked her slowly back and forth. Other nights, she’d wake up drenched in sweat, hands flying behind her, ready to draw an arrow and shoot down the demons in her dreams. Some nights she would simply cry, hugging her pillow, praying her friends were safe; others she would go out and train, releasing her arrows at targets in the woods, the familiar cover of night giving her some comfort. It had been like this before, and that alone was its own sort of comfort. If her family was worried, they didn’t bring it up. Kagome didn’t know whether or not to be grateful.

When she finally climbed through the well, relief seeped through her bones to see the familiar sight of her hanyou, the only red he wore was that of his fire rat. He wasn’t hurt or maimed as she had seen him so many times in her dreams, and she felt a piece click inside her. It was a longing to be here again, to be with him, and she was certain that things would get better. They did not talk about the trauma, did not indulge in the pain that was a constant loop in kagome's mind as she hoped and feared they would. Whatever healing they needed, they had worked through years ago, happy to have avenged their families and found peace with their own. Despite that, being back in the feudal era was its own brand of healing, it’s own slow burning cleanse, to be back in the land she fought for, with the people she fought with. And for a while, it was enough. She wouldn’t burden those around her and bring up the past. Her friend's constant vision for the future was pushing her along. And for a while, nothing seemed wrong.

You can only fool a hanyou for so long. After a while, he began to question her. Why wouldn’t she sleep? Did she regret coming back? Coming to him? When kagome struggled to voice it, to tell him that no, she was happier than she had been in years, but she was still sorting through her trauma he grew impatient and left. It was hard to admit and rather embarrassing to admit she was so screwed up all these years later, when no one else was. She hasn’t lost her entire village like Sango, it had her brother manipulated. Her family wasn’t cursed as Miroku’s had been, and Naraku had not taken the life of the one she loved like Inuyasha. She had lost the least but somehow reacted the worst.

He came back to their small hut later that night, knowing she would be awake. He sat by their futon beside her, unsure if he should climb in, afraid of her answer. Pure instinct drove kagome to spring into his arm, burying her nose into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry.” She murmured, over and over again, and she tried to explain the numb existence she had been living for the last 3 years.

Kagome felt selfish explaining it, the words tumbling from her lips in broken pieces, and every statement was punctuated with an apology. She didn’t want to be this broken, didn’t want to return to him so damaged. He had managed to let it go, and he had lost so much.

“Let it go?” He echoed, brows drawn together in confusion. He gripped her shoulders, pulling her in close, as if she would disappear any moment. Tucked in, he told her of his sleepless nights during their journey, not only for protection of their group, but also to combat the nightmares. If they were doing the right thing, why did each death weigh so heavily on him? If their course of action was for the good of everyone, why couldn’t he get the blood off his hands, even after he scrubbed them clean? He knew he would do it all again, but it did not seem to lessen the weight on his shoulders. He was often lost in thought, down his own rabbit hole of agnst and depression, a self loathing to intense he had trouble climbing out from it. But she had always been there, hands outstretched, ready to pull him out. And when she was gone, taken 500 years into the future, he found himself back down that hole again. Yes, there were friends eager to dig him out, but he only ever touched the surface. And for their sake, he tried. To smile, to laugh, to wear the mask kagome spoke about.

She understood. Having someone share in her feelings, understand without having to explain, vocalize the pain she had denied for so many years left her dizzy. She couldn’t have loved him more if she tried.

Kagome blessed him for being the soul that he was, for carrying the weight for so long; she knew the feeling all too well. They weren’t alone any longer. They could share the burden. She kissed him then, slow and tender, wet with tears as they slid down her cheeks, her hands fisted in his hair. Maybe they would not be able to sleep, but now they had each other, and the nights would not be so lonely.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ajoy3fanfics


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